


Rats in the Walls

by TheBraillebarian



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, M/M, Rats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBraillebarian/pseuds/TheBraillebarian
Summary: A lonely former rockstar makes an unexpected friend when his neighbor’s pet rats start wandering into his apartment.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Pickles The Drummer
Comments: 14
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing is HeyMurphy’s fault! Thank you for the inspiration. :)

There was something in his bed. Pickles smiled blearily at the soft, snuffling tickle in his ear, still half dreaming of fingers toying with his thinning hair. In the gloom he cracked open an eye to peer into a tiny white face with its dexterous paws on his cheek. He screamed like a chick in a horror movie, blankets flying as he fell out of bed.

“What the fuck?!” he shrieked. “What the hell are ya?! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Scurrying to the light switch he turned it on in time to see a white butt with a long hairless tail vanishing between the wall and mattress. Grabbing his red hair he screamed again and darted into the living room for sanctuary, legs pulled up on the old creaking futon. How long he sat shivering in the half dark in nothing but his underwear Pickles didn’t know. He jumped at the sound of knocking on his door. 

Pickles had only seen his neighbor in passing, a tall shadow of a man who kept to himself. He was wearing the open denim jacket he seemed to favor and was treating Pickles to an up close look at the bare chest he had furtively admired whenever the opportunity presented itself. The man looked sheepish in the painfully bright morning sun, curly dark hair framing his long face and only half obscuring his pale left eye. 

“Hi, uh. This is awkward. One of my pet rats has gone missing and I heard you screaming. Mind if I come in and see if she’s here?”

“Yer pet what?!” Pickles squinted up at him. 

“Rats,” he said defensively, crossing his arms over his hairy bare chest. 

Every time he thought the world couldn’t be stranger, someone always proved Pickles wrong. “Uh. Yeah, come on in I guess. Saw it in my room.”

“Her,” he said sweeping into the dim, messy apartment. 

“What?”

“All my rats are female. Your room is...?”

Pickles waved a hand vaguely at his bedroom door, trailing after the man. His mysterious neighbor looked like he wanted to be anywhere but Pickles’ dingy, weed and beer smelling apartment. Admittedly, Pickles felt the same way. 

“Er,” he said from the door. “She went behind the bed. Ya need any help?”

The man hunched over and scooped something up with his hands. Pickles caught a glimpse of white and that long tail before his neighbor clutched it to his chest. Unable to resist his curiosity, Pickles inched closer. 

“Never seen a rat up close before,” he mumbled. 

Almost shyly, his neighbor relaxed his hold, fingers uncurling to reveal the animal clutched to his bare chest. She was all white with blood drop eyes and stretched forward to snuffle curiously at Pickles’ nose. 

“Oh, ya ain’t so scary,” he said, hesitantly reaching to touch her surprisingly soft back. 

“Thanks for not killing her,” his neighbor said gruffly. 

Pickles flinched at the implication. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I ain’t in the habit of hittin’ girls who like playin’ with my hair.”

The snort laugh that came out of him seemed to surprise the tall man as much as his rat had Pickles. 

“Magnus, by the way,” he held out his hand. 

“Pickles.” They shook. 

“Like the rock star?” Magnus quirked a dark brow. 

“Just like,” Pickles grimaced. “And yer lady friend?”

“Molly Gru.”

“Oh I fuckin’ love that movie!”

Magnus seemed to soften at the edges before an awkward silence descended over them. 

“Well,” he said. “I’ll go. Nice to meet you, Pickles.”

“Same man. Er, Magnus. Have a good one.”

He watched Magnus go and stood in the dark of his living room for long minutes after the door shut. Hell of a way to start the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

The second rat was pale brown and white with the same blood red eyes. Pickles jumped when he saw her exploring the half full ashtray on his scuffed nightstand but quickly got over his fright when he noticed her little paws trying to make off with a cigarette butt. 

“Aww no, pal,” he said, “ya don’t wanna start that habit. It’s bad fer ya.”

Catching a rat proved to be a lot harder than Magnus had made it look. As Pickles reached for the animal she slipped between the wall and nightstand. When he tried to reach for her on the floor, she vanished between the bed and the wall. He lay on the carpet and listened to her chew on the cigarette. 

It was Pickles’ turn to look sheepish as Magnus glowered down at him. “Hey, so, one a yer girls stopped by. I tried to get her fer ya but,” he shrugged helplessly. “She’s havin’ a smoke in my room.”

Magnus’ eyebrows shot up. “She’s what?”

“Got hold of a cigarette butt. It ain’t gonna hurt her, is it?”

“It hasn’t so far,” Magnus said with a touch of fondness. “That sounds like Geiger. She got into some of my smokes awhile back and has a nicotine habit now.”

Pickles laughed, stepping aside so Magnus could walk by. “Rats can do that?”

“Yeah. They’re not so different from us.”

“I buy that.”

Geiger fought to keep hold of her prize when Magnus picked her up and sulked when he dropped the butt back in the ashtray, front body flopped dramatically over his wide palm. 

“Heh, I do that when I don’t get my smoke break, too,” Pickles chuckled. “Did ya name her after that guy that designed the Alien?”

Magnus seemed a little startled. “Yeah. You know about HR Geiger?”

Pickles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Met him at a couple gigs. He signed some prints fer me. I think I got ‘em somewhere. I’ll give ‘em to ya if I find ‘em.”

Magnus blinked. “What?”

“If yer namin’ pets after the guy, I figure ya might appreciate ’em more’n me,” he shrugged. 

Silence descended between them yet again, more hesitant than awkward. Magnus stroked between Geiger’s shoulders to busy his hands, unable to look at Pickles. 

“Thanks, man,” he said quietly. 

“Sure.”

Pickles sighed when the door shut on Magnus, his apartment feeling suddenly empty in a way he hadn’t noticed for months. 


	3. Chapter 3

He was having one of his bad nights when the third rat showed up. Too maudlin to get up for a drink, Pickles lay sprawled on his mattress blinking away the tears while the radio played the hits. The screaming chorus he’d been so proud of writing was sawing through his heart when something warm hooked its paws in his shirt and climbed onto his chest. 

“Oh. Hey,” he sniffed. 

This one was dark gray with a streak of white between her black eyes. She combed her paws through his beard and snuffled along his wet cheek, lapping at the salt with a tiny tongue. 

“Oh gahd that’s weird,” he chuckled in spite of himself. “Better get ya back where ya belong. At least one of us can be wanted somewhere.”

She didn’t run when Pickles slowly brought his hands up to cup her to his chest. He managed to open his front door but had to kick Magnus’ in lieu of knocking. It was only when Magnus’ face shifted to concern upon opening the door that Pickles realized what a sorry sight he must be. 

“Are you alright, man?”

Pickles shrugged. “Found one a yer girls.”

“Oh,” Magnus’ cheeks flushed. 

He reached for the rat happily cradled in Pickles’ arms, warm fingers brushing his chest. Pickles dragged his newly freed arm across his eyes. 

“You, uh, wanna come in?”

Blinking, startled, Pickles said, “Ya sure? Don’t wanna bother ya...”

“Nah, come in. Company’s nice sometimes.”

Magnus’ apartment was nominally cleaner than Pickles’. It smelled like smoke and weed and the carpet was clearly stained but there were no empty cans or food containers on the floor. Where Pickles had never bothered to take his things out of their boxes, Magnus had a couple shelves of books, movies, and music. By the worn out couch stood a tower of a rat cage. Pickles recognized Geiger and Molly Gru as they scurried to the door to meet their gray sister. 

“So who’s that one?” he asked. 

Magnus hunched and mumbled a very familiar name. 

“What?”

“Pickles.”

It was his turn to blush, a shy smile quirking his lips. “Ya named a rat after me?”

Magnus cleared his throat, shoulders hunched. “I name them after my favorite things. Books, artists...musicians.”

“Ain’t much a that no more,” Pickles sighed. “But that’s nice. Bein’ remembered. Er. Thanks fer not bein’ weird about me.”

“Weirder than naming a rat after you?”

Pickles shrugged. “Not the worst thing that’s been named fer me.”

A little smile was on the edge of Magnus’ lips as he turned. “Oh?”

“Some chick at a show brought her vibrator, big as my arm.” He shuddered at the memory, laughing. “Called it the Pickles Deluxe.”

“Shit,” Magnus was chuckling. “Please tell me you signed it.”

“Fuck yeah. Wrote her a little love note on the damn thing.”

“God.” Magnus wandered to the kitchen. “Want a beer or anything?”

“Sure,” Pickles took the opportunity to sit on the couch, sticking his fingers into the cage for the rat trio to curiously nibble. 

Flopping onto the couch next to him, Magnus offered a cold can. “I was watching The Thing. Just started. Want me to rewind it?”

“Aww hell yeah. Love that one! Great special effects.”

They drank and traded commentary over the movie and Pickles forgot about his earlier woes. He wasn’t a nobody here or a bedpost notch to be tossed out tomorrow. For tonight he was just a regular jackoff again, watching movies with his weird neighbor. It was nice. 


	4. Chapter 4

He was idly smoking, sitting on the edge of his bed, when Geiger wandered over the sheets and climbed his shirt. From his shoulder she reached for the cigarette he was drawing away from his mouth. 

“No way, sister,” Pickles laughed. “Gotta ask yer dad before takin’ smokes with a stranger.”

Pickles carried the rat on his shoulder, her warm bulk nestled against his neck and tail draped down his back. It was a weirdly comfortable feeling having the little animal snuggled in his hair. The faint sounds of a guitar stopped when he knocked on Magnus’ door. 

“Got somethin’ a yers,” Pickles said with a smile and pulled his hair aside. 

“How the hell do they keep getting over there?” Magnus’ hand was warm by Pickles’ cheek as he reached for the rat. “Thanks for being so cool about this.”

Pickles shrugged his unoccupied shoulder. “It’s cool. I like the company.”

Magnus’ hand seemed to relax against his shoulder while both men waited for Geiger to move. She brushed her whiskers with tiny forepaws. 

“Didn’t know ya played,” Pickles said conversationally. 

“Oh, yeah,” Magnus looked away. “A bit.”

“Sounded pretty good.”

“Thanks.”

Both men fidgeted on their feet, Magnus uncertainly squeezing Pickles’ shoulder. 

“I think she likes you,” he said. 

“Always did have a way with the chicks,” Pickles grinned. 

“I don’t think she’s going anywhere. Want to come in? If you’re not busy?”

“Sure. Ain’t got much goin’ on today.”

They ended up sharing a few drinks while listening to Magnus’ record collection. At one point Pickles left to fetch his guitar, which had been sitting ignored in its case since he’d moved in, Geiger draped across the back of his neck. It took some cajoling on his part and another beer but eventually he talked Magnus into playing with him. They ended up sprawled on the living room floor laughing through a butchered rendition of “Classical Gas”, carefully fishing rats away from guitar strings and tuning pegs. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pickles has some guests on a dark and lonely night.

Pickles didn’t have furry guests over every day but he was starting to get a sense for when Magnus was home just by their presence. Sometimes he’d be lying in bed or watching the old tv propped on its milk crate and one or two of the girls would wander in. Occasionally all three would join him until either he took them home or Magnus came over. Pickles had even started keeping a few healthy treats on hand for the little fuzz balls. He was pretty sure they ate better than either of the men in their lives. 

On more than one occasion they seemed to come by right when he needed friends most. 

What set him off Pickles couldn’t say but he found himself wedged in a corner of his dark room shivering through the tense ache in his gut, senses on alert for some unknown attack. He’d long since given up his inhaler but the crush in his chest made him yearn for one solid, steady breath. A little nose and a pair of paws on his bare thigh made him twitch but he’d learned quickly not to be so spooked by the rats. It was Molly Gru with little Pickles in tow and he gently lifted them off the floor. 

“Hey babes,” he said shakily. “Kinda glad to see ya.”

Molly Gru settled herself across his neck, happily grinding her teeth by his ear, tickling him with her whiskers. Little Pickles seemed to want cuddles and pressed her gray furry bulk against his chest, body stretched out over his arm. Absently Pickles ran his fingers over her soft fur. The combined warmth of them and the texture under his palm were grounding and Pickles felt himself returning at least in part to his dark, empty apartment. 

How long he sat petting rats in his underwear Pickles didn’t know. Eventually he jumped at the sound of knocking on his door. Still too shaken to answer he left Magnus to discover it was unlocked on his own. 

“Pickles?” he said uncertainty from the door. 

“In here,” Pickles said. “I got yer girls with me.”

Magnus inched his way through the still unpacked living room and peered cautiously over the bed. “You okay, buddy?”

Pickles laughed bitterly. “Just havin’ one a those nights, ya know?”

“I think I do.”

The other man quietly settled beside Pickles, their thighs resting against each other’s. Molly Gru traded places with Geiger, who had an obsession with Pickles’ smoke smelling dreads. They sat in a calm silence, Magnus’ warmth sinking into Pickles’ skin. 

“Sahrry ya had to see me this way,” Pickles said eventually. “Freakin’ out in my undies. Tabloids would’a loved this.”

“Brain’s a funny thing,” Magnus said. “And a real bitch. You ever try pills for it? Real ones. From a doctor?”

“Used to. It was nice. Took the edge off. Ain’t famous enough for insurance now.”

Magnus huffed a laugh. “Me neither.”

Pickles chuckled, surprised at himself. A companionable quiet settled between them. Without meaning to, not quite aware of his own actions, Pickles leaned his head on Magnus’ shoulder. The man tensed briefly but relaxed as Molly Gru took the chance to explore the thinning hair on top of Pickles’ head. 

He fell asleep like that and woke some hours later with a pillow under his head and a blanket tucked around him. The floor was cold but the fact that Magnus hadn’t just left him to lie there put a warmth in his chest. Uncertain and groggy, Pickles dragged himself to bed and decided to do something nice for his neighbor. 


End file.
